“I see your father in you too. But you’re bigger than him now. Tell me more about her.”
“Why?”
“Because I need a piece of someone else today, to help plaster the hole.”
If it would make her hurt less, I’d gladly offer her my soul.
“She was tall. My sister looks like her.” Which was where the problems lay. “And slim. My father loved her more than anything.”
“He’s never had a relationship since, has he? At least, I’ve never known him to, but maybe I wouldn’t.” Her voice is soft. “I know barely anything that goes on in a normal life.”
I see it then; that need to be normal, to have what everyone else had the right to, but she didn’t and never would. Even if she gave up the throne, she’d never be entitled to anonymity.
“As far as I know, he’s never had another partner, but that doesn’t mean he hasn’t.” I don’t feel guilt or sympathy or sorrow for him; it’s been his decision and he made it for his own reasons. What I do despise it that he’s never had a relationship with Majken since she left to live with our fucking bitch of an aunt. She left him childless.
“There are some things about our families that we’ll never find out. I’m half expecting Lennox’s love child to crawl out of somewhere. Potentially Elise.”
I laugh quietly; she has a fair point but also because we’re not being serious right now. “Today’s not the day.” I stroke the skin on her back.
“No. It isn’t.” She kisses my chest. “What was she like as a person?”
“Kind. Patient. She laughed a lot and her big thing was to see us happy and free.”
“Do you think she’d like seeing you as you are now?”
I laugh, knowing exactly the point that she’s making. “Because I’m never happy?” I shift onto my back and pull her on my chest. She’s like a blanket right now, one I can comfort myself with. Maybe comfort her.
“Kind of. I don’t remember when I’ve seen you relaxed.” She pauses. “Except maybe now.”
She’s right. This is the most relaxed I can remember being in months. Possibly longer.
“No. I think she’d want me to be settled. Doing something practical with my hands rather than shift work and things that involve violence.” I think of the two men I killed with my bare hands. Not that I regret stopping any threat.
Blair’s quiet, slowly swirling her fingers on me. It’s both comforting and arousing and I close my eyes, just wanting to feel her there.
“How did she die?”
“She had to leave England. It was the time when they were expelling anyone without an English passport or specific permission to live there and she didn’t have it.”
“Even though you’d lived there for years?”
“Even though. My dad’s Scottish. My mother was Norwegian. Neither of us had any rights to be there and they weren’t married, which was an added complication. She had to go back to Norway and apply to become a Scottish citizen, which she could do and would’ve been granted access because of us.” I hear a choke somewhere in my words. This isn’t something I talk about. This is something that stays buried because it became the very compost from which I grew.
“What happened?”
“She was receiving treatment for cancer. The English system refused to treat her, even with additional payment offered and she was forced to leave the country when her health was unstable. She didn’t make the crossing. Tumour at the top of her spine.”
Blair doesn’t say anything. She props herself up with her arms and looks at me, her eyes soft and showing me more than words have ever said.
“That’s why you hate England.”
I shake my head. “No. That would be wrong. I hate the policies and procedures that were put into place.”
“Politics.”
“No.”
“I am my country, Ben. We have similar barriers in place and sometimes they’re inhumane and wrong. We can only try…”
